Shelter
by CailenBraern
Summary: Castiel Novak is down on his luck but is not yet down and out. Leaving behind a troubled family past and a history of mental problems, he braves the elements everyday to try and give something back to others in his situation. On one cold, fall day he stops a man on the street. The man has no money to pledge, but maybe there is something else he can give to Castiel.


**Shelter**

**AU**: Castiel Novak is down on his luck but is not yet down and out. Leaving behind a troubled family past and a history of mental problems, he braves the elements everyday to try and give something back to others in his situation.  
On one cold, fall day he stops a man on the street. The man has no money to pledge, but maybe there is something else he can give to Castiel.

Originally intended as a one-shot, although the lovely lady I asked to give it a once over before I posted wanted a part two. I might explore that.

* * *

"Excuse me, I wonder if you could you spare me a few moments to ta- Oh, I see. Well, have a good day, sir!"

Castiel sighed softly as a man in his early forties barged straight past him, clipping his shoulder with no apology save for an unimpressed glare on his face. It happened all too often on this block. People were always in too much of a hurry or had things of grave importance to do that had to be done right now because any delay would bring about the apocalypse.

He couldn't let it bother him. He had spent months developing a thick skin that not even the surliest of shoppers could penetrate. He was on a mission and he never forgot that. Not for a moment. He couldn't.

"Hey, Cassie!" His colleague, Gabriel, called from across the road. The shorter man had been working the opposite side, dodging traffic to cross the road and approach Castiel.

"Don't call me that." Castiel replied, untying his scarf to tie it again tighter, stuffing the ends inside his bright red t-shirt. It was a crisp October morning, and he wore a turtleneck sweater underneath the charity shirt, adding the scarf as an extra precaution to keep his neck warm and fingerless gloves to protect his hands. Gabriel seemed to have no such qualms about the cold, proudly wearing the t-shirt as intended (if you were intending to wear it in the summer).

"Anyone signed up to donate yet?" Gabriel asked, pulling out a sucker from his pant pocket. Castiel briefly wondered how many he kept stashed away in his pockets.

"No." Castiel replied, sighing as he shook his head. "How about you?"

"A couple of sweet old ladies were very concerned." Gabriel replied, waggling his eyebrows and forcing Castiel to roll his eyes. It was ridiculous the way Gabriel could charm pensioners so easily. Whenever Castiel tried to speak to the older citizens, they always interrupted him to claim that he reminded him of someone they once cared dearly about.

"I was watching you from over there." Gabriel murmured, interrupting Castiel from his thoughts. "You're approaching the wrong people."

"Is that so?" Castiel questioned, looking expectantly at the shorter man. Gabriel nodded, pointing his lolly at the man.

"Absolutely. We've all got our selling points. For me, it's sweet old ladies who miss their grandchildren. For you, it's the single ladies!" Gabriel explained, forcing another eyeroll from Castiel. Gabriel just grinned wider. "Come on, Cassie. You know it's true. One look into those bright blue eyes and they're hooked. You're barking up the wrong tree chasing after guys."

"Please don't use analogies." Castiel murmured, rubbing his forehead. "I am not 'chasing' after guys."

"Whatever, bro." He murmured, crunching down on the last of his sucker before tossing the stick into the trashcan. "If you wanna get the signatures, go after the ladies." He told him, waving cheerily before turning to cross the road again.

Castiel narrowed his eyes, watching him as he approached a couple of women in their early fifties, with a warm and open smile on his face. Castiel couldn't smile like that. It looked alien. With everything he had gone through, he found very little to smile about. The only thing that brought him any kind of pleasure was getting another signature. Getting a stranger to realise that homelessness was a serious problem in their country, and it only took a small contribution each month, tax free, to make a difference to someone's life.

And he knew exactly how that worked. He had been in that situation for so long; had hunched up in a shop doorway, frozen down to his bones; had rummaged through trash cans for scraps of food. Then someone had pointed him towards a soup kitchen, and then someone had sat him down and had a long conversation with him. They had learned about his circumstances, how he came to be without a home and without direction. They had listened and understood, and they had offered him support.

He still didn't have a home, but he had a roof over his head. He had access to a toilet, a shower, a fridge, central heating and most importantly of all, a bed.

It wasn't enough for him. He couldn't take. He just couldn't. He had to give something back.

It was that drive that made him apply for a job with the same charity that had helped him, spending every weekend fundraising in the busy shopping precincts; whether it was hot, cold or wet.

He checked his watch, deciding it was time to take a five minute break and turned to head to the cafe for a cup of tea. He collided hard with another body, grunting in surprise. "Oh, my. I am so sorry." He apologised immediately, taking a step back and looking at the person he had smacked right into. He, for it was a man, was about the same height, with short dark hair and about two days worth of stubble. The man simply smiled gently, his eyes crinkling with laugh lines.

"Hey, no problem, man." He murmured, and Castiel stared unashamedly at the man's lips. When he caught himself, he looked up into the stranger's eyes which was his second mistake.

His mother was particularly fond of emeralds. Her jewellery was adorned with the green gemstones. The stranger's eyes caught the light in the same way they did. Castiel stared into them, his mind completely shutting down.

"Shelter, huh?" Dean murmured, reading the front of Castiel's t-shirt and looking at the clipboard he was holding. He put two and two together and realised he was a fundraiser. Although he had never been stopped by someone so gorgeous. "What do they do?"

"Hm?" Castiel was shocked out of his silence, although he was apparently still without eloquence. The man was watching him, raising his eyebrows slightly to urge him on. The fact that he wasn't immediately moving on was enough to put Castiel on the wrong foot.

It took him a long time to remember his spiel, fumbling for the lines he had spoken so many times. Eventually his brain caught up, and he explained to the man about what the charity did and what their money went towards. The man listened to attentively, never taking his eyes off of Castiel.

"So, would you be willing to make a contribution, Mr..." Castiel prompted, stepping closer to the man.

"Dean." The man introduced himself. "My name's Dean. And you are?"

"Castiel." He murmured, aiming for a smile although he was sure it looked more like a grimace.

"Castiel, huh?" Dean repeated, nodding his head. "Nice name. Look, man. After hearing you talk, I would love to make a donation, but actually, I'm kinda homeless myself." He explained.

"Really?" Castiel murmured in surprise, glancing down over Dean from head to toe. "But... you... don't look homeless." He stammered, blushing gently.

Dean grinned. "My brother and I travel from city to city, staying in motels." He told him. "We don't have a home, unless you count my car."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to waste your time." Castiel apologised.

"Are you kidding? I should be apologising for wasting your time." Dean replied, scratching the back of his neck. "I dunno, I just, I liked listening to you talk." He murmured, watching the man carefully to make sure he hadn't misjudged. He looked like he could probably throw a decent punch if he got offended or freaked out.

Castiel tried to smile again. "Actually, you're the first one today that's really listened." He murmured.

"Seriously? Are they all deaf?" Dean asked, shaking his head. "I could listen to you for hours."

Castiel blushed, loosening the knot on his scarf to breathe easier. "I was about to go on my break." He murmured. "If... if you're not in any hurry, perhaps you could join me?" He asked tentatively. Dean just grinned, nodding. "That sounds awesome." He replied.

Castiel couldn't believe it. He had never acted on his desires, and if he did, he never possibly imagined that he would have any margin of success. But this beautiful man had agreed to spend his break with him. With Castiel. What was he thinking?

Castiel gestured towards the cafe, walking with Dean towards it. "Is there pie?" Dean asked, looking hopeful.

"Pecan and Apple." Castiel replied, nodding. The man appeared delighted by the news. "Can you afford it?" Castiel asked bluntly.

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about it." Dean replied, shrugging his shoulders. "I get by hustling. Make my money from pool and poker to cover room charges and sustenance."

"What exactly do you do that makes you need to travel city to city?" He asked Dean, a little confused by the lifestyle.

Dean opened his mouth to reply, before whipping his head around to look across the road where someone had wolf-whistled impossibly loud. He spied a shorter man, wearing the same shirt as Castiel. "Friend of yours?" Dean asked, turning back to Castiel and raising his eyebrow. The fundraiser just groaned and blushed a little from Gabriel's teasing.

"Not exactly. He's my colleague. We work a lot of the weekend shifts together." He murmured. "He's very annoying. And loud."

Dean chuckled, reaching the cafe and opening the door for the man. Castiel smiled and walked in, heading over to his favourite table. He was followed by Dean who slid into the seat opposite. The waitress didn't waste any time in arriving to take their order; Castiel ordered a pot of tea and a scone, and Dean settled for a slice of the pecan pie along with a coffee. The waitress noted down their orders and moved away to get their order, leaving Castiel and Dean to glance at each other for a few moments, while both of them considered what to say.

"You never answered my question." Castiel was the first to break the silence. "Something to hide?"

Dean blinked, then laughed to himself when he remembered what Castiel had asked him before they entered the cafe. "Oh man. No, that's not it at all." He murmured. "I'm a private investigator. We both are, me and my brother. If someone's got something they can't go to the police with, we help 'em out. Sammy's awesome with computers and research." He explained, smiling proudly as he spoke about his brother. "I'm good at getting information out of people. We make a good team. But cases don't come by all too often. We're still making a name for ourselves."

"That's why you travel a lot?" Castiel realised, and Dean nodded to confirm his assumption.

"Sammy's really invested in what we do." Dean murmured."Whatever money we make from a case, part of it goes into a college fund. He's going to be a lawyer one day."

"What about you?" Castiel asked. "Don't you want to go to college?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope. Academia's not my bag. Timetables and deadlines and papers and GPAs. Give me a stakeout and a target, and I'm as happy as a pig in a poke."

Castiel smiled gently, sitting back when the waitress arrived with their order. Dean clapped his hands together in glee as his pie was set down in front of him, and Castiel smiled wider, pouring tea into his cup.

Dean dug his fork into the pie, taking a bite and moaning in satisfaction. Castiel was grateful beyond belief that the man was too engrossed in his dessert to notice the blush colouring his cheeks. He distracted himself with his scone, slowly regaining control of himself.

"So, Cas." Dean started before taking a sip of coffee. Castiel glanced up sharply, surprised to be given a nickname. That was something you gave to a friend, wasn't it? Not a stranger from the streets. Gabriel hadn't called him Cassie until they had worked together half a dozen times. "Did you go to college?" The PI asked.

Castiel swallowed, then took a sip of tea to do something about his dry mouth. "No, I... I didn't." He replied. "I was homeless."

"Oh..." Dean murmured softly, frowning before his eyes widened. "Oh! That's why you... Wow, that's... You're amazing." He told the man who was by now blushing furiously.

"I'm not. I'm really not. Please don't." Castiel begged. Dean watched him carefully, noting the tension in Castiel's body language and realised he was close to spooking the guy.

"Sorry, man. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just mean... you've been through that. And now you want to help others. Most people are selfish. They don't mean to be but they are. Not you, though."

"What I went through was my own fault." Castiel murmured, playing with the cuff of his sweater. "It was God's punishment. Other people who now find theirselves in that situation do not deserve to be. To earn my forgiveness from God, I must do everything I can to help them."

"You're a devout christian?" Dean realised, tilting his head slightly to process that. He was strictly atheist himself, and wondered whether this would come between a relationship. Holy shit, he was considering a relationship with this stranger. What the hell was he thinking? "Look man, whatever it was you did, you didn't deserve to be homeless. No one deserves that. You were just a kid!" He told Castiel, frowning at the thought of a teenage Castiel on the streets.

"I'm sick, Dean." Castiel blurted out, looking up at the man. "Before we go any further you should know that."

Dean stared, mouth working as he tried to get his brain to catch up with him. "Sick, what, like cancer?" He asked. Castiel broke his gaze, looking out of the window. He didn't answer him for a few seconds, but for Dean it felt like a few hours.

"I'm Schizophrenic, Dean." Castiel said carefully, watching the man.

Dean let the words sink in, although he wasn't all too clear what they meant. "Like, is that the one where you're two different people?" He finally asked, grateful when Castiel didn't take offense.

"A common misconception." Castiel replied. "But no, that's multiple personality disorder, or disassociative identity disorder. I'm more categorised as a paranoid schizophrenic. It means I hear voices, see things."

Dean wondered why he hadn't left yet. Wondered why he was picking up his mug and taking another sip of coffee.

"And your family kicked you out for that?" He asked, frowning. What a bunch of jackasses, abandoning their kid like that.

"No, they kicked me out because I burned down the house and put my sister in hospital." He replied, closing his eyes as the memories pushed their way to the front of his mind.

"Hey, look." Dean murmured softly, leaning forward. "You don't have to say anymore now. Not if it's too painful, which I imagine it is."

Castiel opened his eyes and nodded stiffly. Dean swallowed around a lump in his throat as he saw how sad the man looked.

"God... told me that there was sin in that house. The only way you can cleanse sins is through fire. Burn the house down and start afresh. Only the fresh start wasn't quite what I was expecting. I was undiagnosed then, but my father had had enough. He said I as good as murdered Anna, and that if he ever saw me again he would make sure I ended up where I belonged. Hell. It was only after I got help from Shelter that my mental condition was diagnosed."

"I'm sorry, man." Dean murmured. "That's shit. You shouldn't have gone through that alone."

Castiel blinked, suddenly coming to himself. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this." He muttered in disbelief. Dean only smiled weakly.

"I told you I was good at getting information from people." He said. Castiel chuckled gently.

"A remarkable talent. And one that must come in very useful in your profession." He replied.

"Hey, Cas, look. We've all done things we're not proud of. We've all put up with crap in our lives. Despite all that... I like hearing you talk. Sitting here with you, I haven't had this much fun without Sam for... well, forever."

Castiel's eyes widened, staring at the man. "R-really?" He stammered, confused as hell. Dean just grinned, and Castiel was damned because the man really was too beautiful for words, and he was falling hard.

"Really, Cas. And... you know, if you don't mind talking to me some more, I'd really like to take you out sometime. Maybe tonight, after you've finished work?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows in hope.

Castiel's eyes widened even further as Dean mentioned work, checking his watch and realising he was late. He finished the rest of his tea in one quick gulp before standing up and pulling out his wallet.

"No, Cas." Dean murmured, putting his hand over Castiel's to stop him. "Don't worry, I got this." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card to hand over to the man. "I won't keep you. Don't want you to get in trouble with your boss, but there's my number. I really do want to see you again, so give me a call, alright?"

Cas nodded, smiling wide and for once in his life, it didn't look alien. It looked genuine, it looked happy, it looked hopeful.

"I will." He promised. "Thank you. It was nice to meet you Dean." He murmured, holding the business card tightly for fear of losing it. "I'll call you." He promised again, moving away from the table to leave the cafe.

Dean smiled, pulling out his wallet to pay for their drinks and treats.

* * *

Castiel rushed back to his position, panting as he caught his breath. There was a sharp clap on his shoulder and he almost screeched in fright. Managing to stifle it, he whirled around and looked down to see Gabriel grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"You do know we only accept 'cash' donations." Gabriel teased, and Castiel rolled his eyes. He finally put the business card in his pocket, making sure it was secure. "Holy crap, you're smiling." Gabriel murmured, grinning as he looked down the street towards the cafe. "Way to go, Cassie. Guess you were barking up the right tree all this time."

Castiel chuckled gently, nodding at the shorter man before he moved away to approach someone walking by.

"Excuse me, I wonder if you could you spare me a few moments to talk about shelter?"


End file.
